


Facing the Past

by Allemande



Series: Learning the Language [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Character Study, Established Relationship, Introspection, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-08 00:13:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allemande/pseuds/Allemande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The New Cardassian Republic visits Deep Space Nine, and Julian Bashir is asked to come along. He's rather looking forward to seeing old friends and acquaintances, but doesn't account for all the memories, the difficulties of explaining his decision to go live on Cardassia, and an ominous Bajoran threat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Facing the Past**

  
“The Minister of Foreign Affairs of the New Cardassian Republic for you, Julian.”  
   
Without looking up from his test dish, Julian chuckled. “I don’t know why you insist on calling him that. Anyway, I’ll take it in my – ”  
   
The experiment finished, he had looked up, only to realize that he wasn’t being called on the comm system at all.  
   
The minister was right here, in Julian and Zhuni Palok’s improvised clinic/lab in the Traganis region, standing next to a very amused-looking Zhuni – and of course, an aide, a doctor he didn’t know, and the inevitable pair of bodyguards. Typical. They hadn’t seen each other for a whole month and now Julian couldn’t even greet him the way he would have liked to. Not that his partner approved of ‘overly emotional’ scenes anyway.  
   
“Minister,” he said instead, getting up and bowing his head respectfully.  
   
“Doctor,” Garak replied, returning the nod. “I hope you don’t mind the unannounced visit, but I’m afraid it couldn’t wait. You see, I only just found Dr. Meran here,” he indicated the man on his right, “who is willing, even very eager, to continue your work here in Traganis during your absence.”  
   
“My… absence?” asked Julian, after he had greeted Meran with the obligatory nod.  
   
“If you will be so agreeable as to accompany me,” Garak added.  
   
Bastard, Julian thought. As if that pseudo-request disguised the fact that he was practically being ordered to come along. “That depends on where to and how long,” he said nonetheless, if only to find some perverse pleasure in the scandalised looks on everyone’s faces except Zhuni’s (who was used to his cheek) and Garak’s (who knew he wouldn’t say no). “I have a great number of projects running here.”  
   
“Which I am certain you and Dr. Palok can explain to Dr. Meran,” replied Garak, clearly amused. “We will be gone for no more than two weeks.”  
   
Meran stepped forward, seemingly having recovered from Julian’s insubordination, and eager to convince him to play along. “I have already familiarised myself with your recent work on the Traganis plague and the cancer cases, Dr. Bashir,” he said, “and will continue it to the best of my abilities, with the able help of Dr. Palok.”  
   
A respectful nod between the other two doctors, with no hint of prejudice from Zhuni’s part against the male doctor. She was used to Julian, of course; though he was not Cardassian and therefore not subject to their strange societal norms.  
   
“All right, I will be glad to show you around, if the minister will grant me half an hour,” Julian said finally, giving Garak a sarcastically submissive bow. The minister smiled slightly and replied with a rather condescending nod. Bastard, thought Julian again.  
   
“Certainly, doctor. For your information, we are accompanying the Prime Minister to a meeting of the leaders, and foreign secretaries, of the Federation, Bajor, the Klingon and Romulan Empires and the Cardassian Republic – on Deep Space Nine.”  
   
Julian raised his eyebrows. “I can see why you thought that would interest me.”  
   
“I thought you would.”  
   
Half an hour later, he was already feeling much better about the prospect of leaving his work and his part of the responsibility of running the lab to Meran; the man was really very bright and seemed pleasant enough. Zhuni confirmed this impression when she came to his room as he was hurriedly packing some clothes.  
   
“He is not a genius like you, but he will do,” she said, smiling. “And you deserve to go home for a little while.” She hesitated. “Although I would be sorry if your human friends convinced you to stay.”  
   
He clasped her shoulders in farewell. “I am looking forward to it, but I will be just as happy to _return_ home after two weeks.”  
   
She smiled, then took his arm as they walked towards the exit, where Garak’s aide was waiting.  
   
“Are you nervous?” Zhuni asked, and Julian was amused to find another example of her adopting the ‘human style’ of communication.  
   
“Nervous? No reason to be.”  
   
She grinned. They both knew what an enormous lie that was. “It will be fine, Julian. And you will get to spend time with your friend the minister.” They had arrived outside, and Zhuni laid a hand on his arm. “I will miss you.”  
   
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back before the plague is over.”  
   
She shook her head. “Sometimes, I think Cardassia has turned you too cynical, my friend.”  
   
***  
   
It was well into the night when Julian finally got to be alone with Garak. The Prime Minister, Osharan, seemed especially fond of late-night meetings; according to Garak, he hadn’t stopped talking for hours.  
   
“He does have certain difficulties with the concept of free time,” his partner admitted when he had finally entered Julian’s quarters after having been, so he said, ‘released’ from from the ship’s community room. “And he is also slightly paranoid. He keeps going on about Bajorans who might attack us. Still, he is a very shrewd man who is a great asset to our government.”  
   
Suddenly, Garak smiled and shook his head. It was the first time Julian had seen the official mask drop since he had arrived. “Listen to me, I really have turned into a politician.”  
   
“You’ve always been a politician in your own way, Elim.” Julian took Garak’s hands and pulled him down on the sofa with him, and they finally shared their first kiss in one month.  
   
Two had passed since that first kiss on the bridge, and it was still all delightfully new – the feel of Garak’s hand in his hair and the other around his waist, those cool, soft lips on his, the scales below his ear under Julian’s right hand, the neckridges under his left… Garak’s shallow breathing whenever they so much as touched, his hissed exhale, the deep affection in his eyes as he drew back and took him in, evidently savouring the feeling of just looking at his partner.  
   
The love Julian clearly saw in Garak’s eyes was still almost too much to bear. He knew he must wear the same expression on his face, because he was very much in love; but in all the years that they had known each other, Garak had almost always been so incredibly guarded, so untouchable, Julian had been frustrated at times how little his eyes showed. Now, whenever they were alone, Garak opened up to him so completely that it was almost a little shocking sometimes.  
   
Now the expression in Garak’s eyes turned into concern as he looked him up and down. “You have not been eating well,” he scolded.  
   
“Neither have you, dearest.” It was the best approximation of ‘darling’ that Julian knew so far in Kardasi, but somehow he thought it suited them.  
   
“No, but unlike you, I have always had a little excess weight.” Julian knew he was trying to provoke him into protesting, or just rolling his eyes, but he wasn’t going to give him that pleasure. After all, however open they may be with each other, their relationship was still very much what it had been for years – an elegant dance.  
   
“Besides,” continued Garak, “what fun is food when there is no one to share it with?”  
   
“Exactly.” Julian raised his hand again to stroke one particularly sensitive spot on Garak’s neck. “And then,” he leaned forward, deliberately slowly, “you suddenly get hungry again.” And he bit Garak’s neck lightly.  
   
His partner hissed, grabbed his shoulders and climbed on top of him in one swift movement, and then there was really no way of getting to the bed in time.  
   
Later, much later, when they had made it to the bed, Julian lay curled around Garak, his hand on his partner’s chest, just feeling his heart beating. “You could have let me know about this trip in advance, you know.” But there was no real annoyance in his tone; he knew that Garak liked to surprise him. However, the Cardassian was always trying in one way or another to have the upper hand, so it did feel necessary to tell him off for it every now and then. “Bursting in on me like that. I could have embarrassed you in front of your staff.”  
   
“I knew you wouldn’t, dearest.” Garak raised Julian’s hand to his lips and kissed it lightly, then replaced it on his chest. “You have remarkable self-control for a human.” Julian knew that there was some hint in there about his being a-little-more-than-human, but he was grateful to his friend for not going on about it so much anymore. “Besides, I really only found Dr. Meran at the last minute. I would never have presumed to tear you away from Traganis had I not found an adequate substitute.”  
   
“All right then, non-apology accepted.” They both laughed. “I completely forgot about the conference, or rather I thought it was much further off. And I didn’t realize it was on DS9.”  
   
“That was only decided the other day. Apparently there was some dispute about what could be considered neutral territory, especially between the Klingons and the Romulans.”  
   
“You don’t say.”  
   
“It should be an interesting conference,” Garak continued. “We’re supposedly speaking about the future of the Alpha Quadrant, power relations, territory rights and so on, but really I think it’s about presenting ourselves – the New Cardassian Republic – to the others.”  
   
Julian nodded. The new government had only been constituted two weeks ago; it made sense that their first big act would be a meeting with all the major forces in the Alpha Quadrant, especially as the new republic had pledged to be more open towards other peoples.  
   
“Will Kira be there, do you know?”  
   
“Oh yes, Captain Kira contacted me a few days ago to ask some last-minute security questions.”  
   
“Security? Are they expecting trouble?”  
   
“Oh, fairly standard procedures for such a conference, I would think. She also asked me, incidentally, whether you were coming along.”  
   
“I see. Well, I look forward to seeing her.”  
   
“Do you?” Garak turned around to face him and placed his hand on Julian’s hip. “I thought you might be… concerned.”  
   
“I am,” Julian admitted, “but… well, if she has a problem with it, there’s not a lot I can do about it.”  
   
Garak nodded, slowly. “So you plan on telling her about us.”  
   
“Oh, don’t you want me to?” Julian frowned. “I’m not sure I can keep it from her, Elim. Your aides and the Prime Minister and the rest of Cardassia is one thing, but…”  
   
“… Captain Kira is a force of nature,” Garak said. “Don’t worry, dearest, I quite agree. If you want to tell her, then do. Just make sure she keeps it to herself. I know,” he said when he saw the slightly frustrated look in Julian’s eyes, “I would prefer to be more open about this too, trust me. It’s just that with this position…”  
   
“I know, love.” The last phrase was in Standard, and Julian saw Garak’s eyes light up with pleasure. “You like that?”  
   
“Very much. We should adopt that in Kardasi.”  
   
Julian smiled. “Anyway, I know we can’t run around holding hands, or tell people about our relationship, not with you being the foreign secretary.”  
   
“It didn’t work out as we’d planned, did it?” Garak sighed. “I get talked into remaining in an important government position and you run off to Traganis mere weeks after we finally share a bed for the first time. Not what you would call happily ever after.”  
   
“I guess not. More like a Cardassian romance.” Julian curled up again, resting his head against Garak’s chest. They lay there for a while, then he said “You’re mad at me for going to Traganis. I knew it.”  
   
“Not exactly mad, no. Just worried, and regretful of not being able to spend more time with you, that’s all. But I do understand why you did it. That plague outbreak was frightening, as were all the cancer cases. But I hear you’ve been making good progress.”  
   
“Yes, things are looking up now.”  
   
“Good. I visited the Faculty the other day, they miss your input very much. Dr. Jarat almost asked me to order you back to the capital.”  
   
“How unprofessional of Dr. Jarat. As if the Cardassian government could be bribed in any way.”  
   
“Quite.”  
   
Julian kissed him. “Well, I’m very glad you ordered me to come along to this conference.”  
   
“See? I always know what’s good for you, even if you don’t know it yet.”  
   
***  
   
Deep Space Nine was more beautiful than Julian remembered it. Undoubtedly his time on Cardassia had fine-tuned his senses to their architecture. Where it had seemed pompous and war-like before, the station that was slowly coming into view from his window now looked positively elegant.  
   
Julian hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on DS9 memories very much in the last six months, but now with every kilometre they came closer to the station he felt like he was regaining one more memory of his life there; some good, some bad, which he supposed was more than he could have hoped for.  
   
There was a Bajoran and a Romulan vessel already docked; apparently the Klingons hadn’t arrived yet. Julian wondered if the Federation ambassador to Qo’noS was going to be there, too. Strangely, thinking of Worf instantly made him think of Ezri, too.  
   
He waited in his quarters after the ship had docked, knowing that the greeting ceremony at the docking ring would take a while, and not really feeling like entering the station as part of the official Cardassian delegation. Finally, he disembarked, and finding the corridor empty, he made his way straight to Quark’s.  
   
It had hardly changed, which was not very surprising. There was one more Dabo table – he had never been that partial to the game but a mind like his would notice anyway – and the furniture was slightly different; but the noise was the same and so were the rather appallingly half-naked girls. Julian smiled to himself; Cardassians were not terribly prude but this was a little much for their liking. And obviously, he was now seeing this through their eyes, too.  
   
“Doctor!” called out a very familiar voice, and he walked over to the bar to find the owner smiling at him in welcome. “I had a feeling I might see you one of these days.”  
   
“Your instinct is, as usual, right on the money, Quark,” Julian said as they shook hands. “How are you?”  
   
“Oh, not bad. You are standing inside the last remaining outpost of the real Ferenginar. This bar is still the real thing, whereas the planet, these days, well…” He trailed off, looking quite disgusted. Julian had to smile again.  
   
“The Grand Nagus Rom hasn’t changed your society for the better, then?”  
   
“What, are you kidding me? It’s all free market and gender equality and taxes.” Quark shook his head. “But never mind. How has Cardassia been treating its most loyal Federation expat?” Without asking, he poured him a glass of root beer.  
   
“Quite well. It’s been absolutely fascinating to be a witness to the rebuilding of their world, not just of the buildings but also of their whole society. Thanks, Quark.” He took a swig and savoured the taste; root beer was still unobtainable on Cardassia.  
   
“Well, let’s hope they rebuild it into something better.”  
   
“It certainly looks that way to me. Ah, hello Morn, still here then?”  
   
Morn, in his usual chair, nodded and looked like he was about to launch into one of his famous monologues. Quark, however, rescued him. “Vic’s program is still running, doctor, if you want to go up.”  
   
“Oh, marvelous!” It was astonishing, but it felt as though he’d just been told an old friend had come back. “I’ll check it out later. I think I really should say hello to the Captain now.”  
   
Quark raised his eyebrows. “You telling me you came here first? I’m touched, Doctor. I really am.”  
   
Julian raised his glass to him, then emptied it. “Somehow I felt like fortifying myself first.”  
   
Quark laughed. “I get you. Sorry to break it to you, but she hasn’t got any less scary.”  
   
Julian chuckled, then said goodbye and made his way towards Ops. How strange it felt to walk these corridors; he felt like he had spent years on Cardassia, and still he would know his way around this place with a blindfold.  
   
“Ops,” he said, and as the turbolift lurched upwards, so did his stomach. Why was he so nervous? It wasn’t like he was about to see a teacher after he’d misbehaved in class. Then why did he feel like he was about to face a greater adversary than in any of the numerous Cardassian conversations he had manoeuvred through?  
   
Ops also looked the same. Julian shook his head at himself; why was it so surprising? Had he imagined that it would all be rebuilt after he left? Surely even he couldn’t be that arrogant…  
   
He recognized a few faces as he walked towards Kira’s office. Ensign Collins was now a Lieutenant and stationed at tactical; Lieutenant Commander Ling was at engineering – they’d once got very drunk together on Miles’ birthday… They all nodded and smiled at him as he made his way past them.  
   
“Julian!” Kira greeted him as he walked in, and in an instant she had rounded the desk and hugged him. “It’s so good to see a friendly face.”  
   
“That bad?” he laughed as they pulled back. “You make it sound as though several enemy fleets have besieged the station.”  
   
“Well, it’s the next best thing.” She made a face. “I’ve never liked political events. Everyone’s always so… diplomatic.”  
   
He grinned. “You’re very good at that, though.”  
   
“Years of painful practice. But I still don’t like it one bit. Anyway, at least a few nice people are part of it. You came with Garak, right?” She sat down and motioned him to sit as well.  
   
He nodded and sat, wondering whether Garak had just been put in the ‘nice people’ compartment. That would have been a start. “It feels like I haven’t been here for years.”  
   
“Trust me, it does for me too. The whole war… it’s so far away.” She looked sad then, and Julian looked away.  
   
“Have you seen the Cardassians since they came on board?” she asked finally. “They were going to take a look at the conference room and then Garak was going to show them around the station. I hope there hasn’t been any trouble.”  
   
“Trouble? What do you mean? And no, I haven’t seen them.”  
   
“Oh, never mind, we’re just trying to be careful. I’ve assigned security teams to them, anyway, so I should hear if anything’s amiss. So, will you be taking part in the official negociations?”  
   
“Thankfully, no. This is just a social visit. What about you?”  
   
“They want my input for a few tactical and territorial questions, but other than that I’m free to come and go as I please.” She cocked a conspiratorial eyebrow. “I’m going to be making good use of that privilege, especially the latter one.”  
   
Julian grinned. Still the woman of action that he remembered – less talk, more results. It was rather pleasing to be in the company of such a resolute, no-nonsense person, after spending such a long time with Cardassians, who liked conversation more than anything else. Sometimes Garak even interrupted their love-making with a lengthy discussion; frustratingly, Julian enjoyed talking to him so much that he often got caught up in this spiel.  
   
“How have you been, Julian?” Kira interrupted him in his most intimate thoughts, and he blushed a little – but for no longer than a split second, before he regained control of his sympathetic nervous system. “How has Cardassia been treating you?”  
   
Almost exactly the same phrasing Quark had used, thought Julian, and briefly considered mentioning this; then he thought that Kira would not be overly thrilled at being compared to the Ferengi.  
   
“Very well,” he said. “I’ve been working at the Cardassian Medical Research Faculty for a while – basically the biggest planet-wide medical facility – although for the past month I was in the Traganis region dealing with a plague outburst and an onslaught of severe cancer cases caused by radiation in the rubble. They still don’t all have access to anti-radiation shots, so many of the clean-up crews are now doing very badly.”  
   
She frowned in sympathy, and not for the first time he marveled at her; that she was still capable of so much compassion for the Cardassians was frankly astonishing. “They really got it bad,” was all she said.  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
“And have you been seeing much of Garak?”  
   
His stomach gave a little jump. “Well, not in the past month, but other than that, yes, we do see each other every now and then. No regular lunches anymore, as he’s very busy, but…” He trailed off.  
   
“And you’re planning on staying on the planet for the foreseeable future?” Julian thought she sounded… if not disapproving, then definitely sceptical.  
   
“Yes. Probably. I – this may seem a little strange to you, but I like Cardassians. Especially the new, reformed ones, if you will. They’re much less brutal, more… humble. And they’re fantastic conversationalists.”  
   
She said nothing, and he knew she didn’t and probably never would understand his choice.  
   
***  
   
“Julian!” called Vic over the hubbub of Fontaine’s and came rushing over to him. “I haven’t seen you in months. Or have they changed something in my matrix that’s changed my time perception or something?”  
   
“Not that I know of.” Julian grinned and clasped Vic’s outstretched hand. “It really has been months.” He’d said goodbye to Vic before leaving; back then, he had been a very different man.  
   
“What’s cool with you?” asked Vic. “Last time you were in here you were all bummed out, my friend. Now look at you! Fine as wine! This cat’s back in the game!”  
   
“It was hard when Ezri broke up with me,” Julian admitted. “I basically just ran away. But Cardassia – that’s where I’m living now – has been helping me a lot.”  
   
Vic nodded knowingly. “You got yourself a new sweetheart.” It wasn’t a question.  
   
Julian blushed. Again. This was getting ridiculous. “Well… yes. But it’s not official, so I’d be grateful if you could keep it to yourself.”  
   
“Right on, pally. Don’t you worry, Vic can keep a secret if he’s asked to. Just promise me you’ll bring her here one day.”  
   
“Er… I’ll see what I can do.”  
   
He was so lost in thoughts when he walked back down the stairs that at first he didn’t notice the large number of people in Quark’s. But then he saw them – Bajorans, Klingons, Cardassians, even Romulans standing and sitting together in little groups, talking, drinking. Something was strange about the atmosphere; it looked as though everyone was trying to be extremely polite.  
   
He spotted Worf standing with Kira, and went over to greet him. The Klingon, he knew, had never liked Garak very much and had not been overly fond of Julian either; still, he appreciated Worf, if mainly for the fact that Jadzia – and Ezri, in a way – had loved him.  
   
They made some small talk; Worf was obviously trying not to criticize Julian’s decision to go to Cardassia, but he could tell the Klingon wasn’t overly interested in his reports of Cardassia being rebuilt. After a while, Worf excused himself and went to talk to Martok and what Julian supposed was the Klingon foreign secretary. They, too, looked like they were trying hard to have a good time.  
   
“What’s the matter?” Julian asked Kira, while watching Garak having his ear chewed off once more by Osharan. The man always looked so… insistent in everything he said. Julian supposed that conveying one’s beliefs passionately was a good quality in a politician, but still, sometimes he wished the man were a little less intense.  
   
“What do you mean?” she asked, although she looked like she knew.  
   
“Everyone looks as though they’re trying very hard to be nice to each other. Or is that just how it looks on this kind of conference?”  
   
“I don’t remember you being this observant, Julian,” Kira said with a shrewd smile playing around her lips. “But you’re right. And no, it’s not usually this bad. It’s just that earlier there was a bit of a run-in between the Klingons and the Romulans.”  
   
“Ah.” He had spent his afternoon reacquainting himself with the station and saying hello to the staff he still knew; most of his time, unsurprisingly, had been spent in the infirmary with Doctor Jabara, discussing the latest papers and findings all over the Alpha Quadrant. Meanwhile, the delegations had already met up for pre-talk drinks in the conference room; the actual talks were supposed to start tomorrow. “Isn’t it a little early for them to start fighting?”  
   
“You said it,” she commented dryly. “We’re all worried about how it’s going to go now. Although we did reach some sort of truce earlier, mainly mediated by Shakaar.” She indicated the Bajoran First Minister, who was deep in conversation with the Romulan Praetor at the other end of the bar. And that was when Julian noticed quite a few security officers standing on the sides, trying to look as unobtrusive as possible.  
   
“So what was the run-in?”  
   
“Well, the Klingons and Romulans don’t have a common enemy anymore so they have to bide their time insulting each other. It was a little more vicious earlier, though; I think the Chancellor and the new Praetor aren’t… well, let’s just say the chemistry is totally off.”  
   
He could see, from where he was standing, what the problem might be; the Praetor looked much like Koval, the former head of the Tal Shiar: a remarkably controlled man who projected a very cool aura. Not exactly something one could say about Martok.  
   
“So what did they say to each other?”  
   
“Oh, you know, the usual.” Kira sounded very tired of the whole thing. “Klingons are savages, Romulans are devious, Klingons are animals, Romulans are snakes, etcetera etcetera. The worst bit was when the Cardassian Prime Minister tried to mediate, though.”  
   
“Oh?” Julian looked at Osharan again, now noticing that he was throwing furtive, rather anxious looks at Martok. “I got the impression he was quite good at that.”  
   
“I’m sure he is, but there’s one thing wrong with him that he can’t help – he’s a Cardassian.”  
   
Julian frowned at her. Was she saying what he thought she was, that he had some innate character traits due to his species? It was just the kind of thing Bajorans were constantly saying about Cardassians – and, of course, the other way round. He had just never heard it from Kira.  
   
“By which I mean,” she clarified, seeing his questioning glance, “that when he tried to step between them and mediate, they suddenly united again to insult _him_.”  
   
“I see.” Julian was surprised to notice how defensive he felt. “I assume it was all ‘cowards, opportunists, Alpha Quadrant traitors’ and so on?”  
   
“That’s pretty much it, yeah.”  
   
“Sounds like a great start to the talks.”  
   
“Yeah. Well, at least people have calmed down now. I just hope the rest of the –” Her words were drowned out in a loud crash, as one of Osharan’s aides was thrown over a table and landed rather hard on his back. A Bajoran civilian stood over him, looking furious.  
   
At once, several security officers sped forward and restrained the man, as well as the Bajorans standing behind him. Kira hurried forward. “What’s going on here?”  
   
“He – called – our – people – inferior,” spat out the Bajoran. “Some nerve you’ve got, coming here and insulting us after all that your people have done – to us, and to the Alpha Quadrant!”  
   
“He started it!” protested the man, getting up and pointing at the Bajoran. “He said we deserved everything that happened during the war, he said we deserved Lakarian City!” The man was shaking.  
   
“And what if I did!” shouted the Bajoran. “How many _Bajoran_ cities were reduced to ashes during the occupation? How many _millions_ did you kill? How many –”  
   
“How many _Cardassians_ did you kill because you resisted? If you –”  
   
“That is quite enough,” said Osharan and stepped forward. “Let us not forget that Cardassia survived only because of Damar, the great hero of the Cardassian resistance, who received help from Captain Kira, a former member of the Bajoran resistance,” he said to the Cardassian, who looked down.  
   
“As for the Cardassian occupation of Bajor,” Osharan said, turning to the Bajoran, “a formal apology was issued by the New Cardassian Republic directly after its creation. However, I do not hesitate to give every single Bajoran citizen I meet my very personal apology.”  
   
He held out his hand to the Bajoran, who took it, looking at Osharan with grudging respect. Julian saw the security officers stepping back to the side, but they continued to watch the Bajoran and his friends behind him very closely.  
   
Osharan finally turned to everyone assembled in the bar. “We are here to ring in a new era of relations between all our peoples. Dwelling on old feuds and reckoning up old bills isn’t going to help us in that goal. Let’s work together and try and look past all that has happened. We need a strong Alpha Quadrant, not one where we’re all constantly at war with each other – be it only in the sense of two people not getting along.”  
   
“Hear, hear,” said Shakaar and stepped forward to shake Osharan’s hand. As everyone broke into applause, Julian caught Garak’s eye, and they smiled at each other.  
   
“He’s a very good diplomat, you see,” Garak said as they lay in bed at night. “He may not be the most efficient administrator, but he has his aides for that. Mind you, not that one for much longer.”  
   
Julian had snuck into his quarters on the ship after making sure no one was around to see him. He was glad that there was no universal translator embedded into this ship’s system; he had witnessed a dubbed version of Garak earlier, when he had clearly been speaking Kardasi with Osharan, and that had just been too strange.  
   
“Poor man,” said Julian. “But I guess he’s not suited for the job if he loses control like that.”  
   
“No indeed. The Prime Minister was quite right to hand him his notice immediately afterwards.”  
   
“All right, all right, I get it, Osharan is your new hero,” said Julian exasperatedly. “When will you two get married, then?”  
   
“Please.” Garak sighed. “Don’t give me one of your childish jealousy fits, I really have no time for this sort of thing right now.”  
   
“Well, I’m sorry.” Although he had just been joking, he was rather offended now. “I’m just going to have to hold back my ‘naïve Federation values’ while you’re busy being smug and important.”  
   
“Oh, Julian.” Garak rolled over him and kissed him, hard. “Please don’t do this.”  
   
Julian kissed him back, then Garak settled onto his chest. Julian’s hand stroked slow circles over his back. It was a mark of how much stress Garak was under that he seemed to have no desire to pursue the argument, but took to kissing and begging instead. Very unusual indeed.  
   
“I was only joking, you know,” Julian said at length. “But I don’t appreciate being written off as naïve all the time. I think I deserve a little more respect by now.”  
   
“Of course you do, love.” Garak moved his head slightly to place a kiss on Julian’s throat. “I do respect you. I just… enjoy teasing you.”  
   
“I know.” Julian smiled. “And I enjoy being teased. Just… let’s not be at war with each other. If we can’t make it, then the entire Alpha Quadrant is doomed.”  
   
He felt Garak’s body shaking softly with laughter as he drifted off to sleep.  
   
***


	2. Chapter 2

Osharan’s improvised speech seemed to have cleared the air, because the talks started off in much better spirits than the pre-drinks had led everyone to believe. Unfortunately, Kira was more implicated than she had wished, and Garak sat up night after night with Osharan and the aides, so Julian had no one to talk to except Vic and Quark. He spent some time with Jabara in the infirmary, getting her input on a couple of projects he’d been working on, but she was of course busy with everyday work and he didn’t dare intrude too much. So he took to wandering the station, checking out the new shops, hanging out with a couple of old acquaintances, and wishing his old friends were still here.  
   
Clearly, he should have remembered to be careful what he wished for.  
   
On his fourth day on Deep Space Nine, he’d decided he had enough of walking around aimlessly, feeling as though he was walking through a half-remembered dream of his past. He had therefore decided to board a transport to Bajor. It was, after all, a beautiful world, and it was summer on the southern islands; he was looking forward to exploring some of the more secluded ones in a speedboat.  
   
It was in the corridor leading to the ship that was departing to Bajor that he heard someone call his name – a voice he hadn’t thought he’d hear again so soon.  
   
“Julian!” Ezri called again, and he turned to see her hurrying towards him. He forced himself to give her a pleasant smile as she came to a halt before him. “I knew it,” she said. “I heard rumours you were going to be part of this conference, though I hadn’t actually managed to get a hold of Nerys to ask her.”  
   
He continued smiling, and they hugged. “Hi, Ezri. Long time, no see.”  
   
They stood in awkward silence for a moment, then both pointed simultaneously at the bag the other was carrying. “You’re going to Bajor,” said Ezri, just as he had been about to say the same thing.  
   
“Yes. Shore leave. Was planning to get some sun.”  
   
“Ah.”  
   
“And you?”  
   
“Same,” she said. “I’m on the _Mendelssohn_ now and we’re here for two days getting some repairs done.”  
   
“I see.”  
   
They smiled at each other unsurely, then both beckoned to the other to board first.  
   
“Whereabouts on Bajor?” he asked, as they had sat down in the waiting room.  
   
“I was thinking of the southern islands,” she said. Of course she was. They had actually talked about going there once, Julian remembered, but they had never found the time before Ezri had left. Well, what a mess, he thought, as they finally arrived at their destination and found themselves standing in front of the same boat rental.  
   
“See you later, maybe,” she said, and they each boarded a separate boat and sped off.  
   
“Well, that wasn’t awkward at all,” Julian said aloud as he zoomed away in the direction of the Shirola isles.  
   
For the next few hours he was undisturbed, and he made the most of this beautiful summer’s day, snorkelling, swimming, sunbathing, exploring the dewy woods of the smallest isle. It was when he stopped at Fiorah, one of the largest islands in the area and famed for its fantastic restaurants, that he ran into Ezri again.  
   
There was no avoiding each other now without being extremely unsocial, so they found a restaurant offering local specialties and a beautiful terrace. They sat poring over the menu for a while, and it almost felt like he was just sharing a meal with a friend. Jadzia, he thought, just imagine she’s Jadzia. But that didn’t really work either. If anything, it made him sad.  
   
“What do you think this rash’da fish is like?” Ezri asked, pointing at something on the menu. All the dishes, thankfully, came with pictures; this fish looked quite enormous and possibly a little complicated to eat.  
   
“Looks like it’s full of bones,” he said. “You probably wouldn’t like it.”  
   
“Yeah, you’re right.”  
   
Damn it. Why did even a little hint of their intimacy – they’d shared many meals together, especially after Garak had left the station, and he’d gotten to know Ezri’s tastes quite well – have to feel so strange?  
   
 “So,” she said after they’d finally ordered, “you’ve been on Cardassia for the last… what, six months?”  
   
“That’s right.” Julian gave a rather lengthy summary of his time there, leaving out… almost nothing. He knew he was using his favourite evasion technique, talking, to escape the awkwardness, but he couldn’t make himself care. “So you’re on the _Mendelssohn_ now. I thought you were planning on going back to Trill?”  
   
“Yes, I spent a couple of months there with the Symbiosis Institute. I learned a great deal about how to separate all the Dax memories from each other and to really establish myself as my own Dax, if that makes sense.”  
   
“Certainly it does.” Now that she mentioned it, Julian thought she did look far more at ease with herself than he had ever known her; in fact, she now looked more like Jadzia, who had always seemed so remarkably at peace with her joined existence. “I’m glad you got the chance to work it all out.”  
   
She smiled gratefully, then suddenly put down her fork and leaned forward. “Julian, I… I’m sorry I ran off like that. I guess I wasn’t really ready to let our relationship turn into something real. And it was weird, too, having known you all those years as Jadzia, and then suddenly being much more attracted to you than she ever was…”  
   
Julian looked down at his plate. She had certainly never been hesitant to communicate her emotions, but it was a little unsettling; especially now that he was used to a much more roundabout way of talking about such matters.  
   
“It’s all right,” he said finally, and meant it. “I’d much rather you worked things out for yourself than live a lie.”  
   
She took his hand briefly, then pulled away again. “You’re so sweet. You know, I don’t think Jadzia ever knew what she could have had in you.”  
   
“Oh, stop it.” But he couldn’t deny to himself that he was flattered.  
   
Fiorah, as it turned out, was a veritable tourist paradise, not only filled with restaurants but also lots of sports facilities. After walking on the beach for a while, Ezri and Julian ended up on an outdoor springball court. Ezri had obviously not just been training her mind on Trill, because her coordination had improved a lot; Julian hardly had to hold back. She still knew he _was_ holding back, but that was one of the things he’d always liked about her – she didn’t mind. She would much rather he played on her level than play on his and make the whole exercise boring for both of them.  
   
“Well, that was a close win for you,” she said good-naturedly, as they made their way to a seaside café for after-game drinks.  
   
“Oh yes, you were quite a challenge,” he assured her, and as they grinned over the shared lie, Julian thought he could finally imagine being friends with this girl – this three-hundred-year-old being – whatever she was – again.  
   
They were much more talkative now, and chatted a lot about old friends and colleagues. Ezri told him she’d been to Earth before being assigned to the _Mendelssohn_ and had visited Kasidy and Jake Sisko, who were currently living with Jake’s grandfather in New Orleans. Apparently the baby was due any day now, and Ezri was going to try and go back as soon as possible. She said felt a certain obligation to look after Benjamin Sisko’s unborn baby as “Ben’s oldest friend in every sense”.  
   
At her mention of the name Sisko, a group of Bajorans, all dressed in various shades of green, who had been sitting at the table next to them, turned round. Julian thought there was probably nothing unusual about that – Sisko was the Emissary who had been taken to the Prophets, after all – but he didn’t like the look of these people, nor of their expressions as they looked them over. However, they didn’t engage them in conversation, but turned back towards each other and resumed their rather grim muttering. Julian thought he heard the words “necessary sacrifice” once, but he couldn’t be sure. Perhaps I’m getting paranoid, he thought – or just influenced by the spy in my bed.  
   
He saw them again on the transport back to the station. They were still looking extremely grim and determined. It wasn’t a combination Julian liked to see, as it rather reminded him of the war and his few dealings with Section 31.  
   
“They look like people with a plan,” he whispered to Ezri after pointing them out. She shrugged. “Maybe they’ve just got some unpleasant business transactions on the station. Who knows what sort of stuff Quark has been ordering again.”  
   
“I guess,” he said.  
   
Having arrived at the station, they stepped side by side through the dock onto the promenade, and Julian was just about to go back to his quarters and have a nice long shower before checking whether Garak was possibly free for dinner, when several things happened at once.  
   
He spotted the Cardassian delegation making their way toward Quark’s at the same time that Garak set eyes on him and Ezri. A split second later, he saw – out of the corner of his eye, no more – several people moving past him and Ezri towards the Cardassians. He caught a flash of green and, on instinct, shouted “Get down!” and ran towards Garak. Then, there was a bright light, a deafening bang, and everything went black.  
   
***  
   
“… remarkably quick reactions.”  
   
“Well, it’s all due to the genetic modifications.”  
   
“I guess he won’t be so mad at his parents anymore now…”  
   
Kira. Jabara.  
   
Garak!  
   
Julian sat up very suddenly, and fainted at once.  
   
“Doctor Bashir?” It was Jabara’s voice again, coming from very far away. He pulled himself into consciousness with tremendous willpower. “Garak… delegation…”  
   
“They’re all okay,” said Kira, standing somewhere else inside the circle that was spinning rapidly around his head.  
   
“All… okay,” he repeated faintly. “Ezri?”  
   
“I’m okay,” said Ezri’s voice. “You took the brunt of the explosion. Although it didn’t really go off as they planned.”  
   
A faint memory of tearing the device from the man’s hand and throwing it into the nearest empty storage room. Thank God for hand-eye coordination. Must call Dad.  
   
“Terrorists,” he said, and tried to sit up. Kira and Jabara each laid a firm hand on his shoulders and kept him down.  
   
“Yes,” said Kira. “I’ll tell you everything later. But you need to rest now.”  
   
“They’re all okay, though,” he said faintly.  
   
“Yes, Julian, they’re all okay. And all worried about you, especially Garak. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this upset.”  
   
“Tell… I’m okay…” He was already falling back into that sweet nothingness.  
   
“Of course I will,” she said, and he thought she sounded faintly amused.  
   
Hours, days or maybe minutes later he felt himself waking up again. There was nobody in the room with him. He asked the computer for a diagnosis. Nothing bad, or at least nothing they hadn’t been able to heal already – some second-degree burns, a broken arm and jaw. A memory came back from smashing into a wall and then onto the floor. He sat up slowly and felt his head spinning a little, but not too badly.  
   
“Doctor,” Jabara came rushing in; she must have heard the increase of his heartbeat monitored by the computer. “You should really lie down.”  
   
“You know me better than that, Doctor Jabara,” he said, wincing a little at the faint pain in his jaw. “I’ve already had the diagnosis. I’m fine.”  
   
“Of course you are,” she said in the exasperated tone of a Doctor treating a colleague – he knew the feeling –, “but even you can’t cheat your body and compensate for the rest it needs. Lie down. If you like I can ask Captain Kira or Lieutenant Dax to come and tell you about everything that happened.”  
   
He lay back down, as ordered. After all, she must have worked rather hard to patch him up so well and so quickly. His regenerated skin was barely itching anymore, and he couldn’t even feel any pain in his arm. “Either of them would be fine. Thank you, Inas.”  
   
Kira and Ezri ended up visiting him together and gave him a blow-by-blow account of what had happened. The Bajorans in green were members of a relatively new extremist group called No More. Kira and her chief of security had been worried that they might try and sabotage the conference, but hadn’t had any real proof or any idea what these people looked like. No More were apparently convinced that Cardassia had got what it deserved during the war and that Cardassian civilisation was at an end; their goal had been to wipe out the leaders of the new government so as to give Cardassia no chance to “rebuild a new Empire”, or so they had said when interrogated.  
   
“A new _Empire_? Have they _heard_ the name the new government gives itself?” Julian said between gritted teeth.  
   
“Julian, these people wouldn’t care if the Republic were called ‘Peace to All Peoples’,” Kira said sarcastically. “They don’t trust them, period. They think Cardassians are innately violent and cruel, and nothing’s going to change that. Not in their generation, anyway.”  
   
“They’re _your_ generation, Nerys,” said Ezri.  
   
“Yes, but they haven’t had the chance to meet any decent Cardassians.”  
   
Julian smiled. “You’re saying you have?”  
   
She gave him a thoughtful look. “I don’t think any Bajoran could have gone through the Dominion war as I did and not have learned to respect, and pity, the Cardassians.”  
   
“I’m not sure that that’s true. Not _any_ Bajoran would be as forgiving as you,” he replied.  
   
“You really like Cardassians, don’t you?” said Ezri, and he shot her a quick, probing look. He had rather given himself away earlier with that terrified yell… but she looked completely neutral. Perhaps a little curious.  
   
“Yes, I do.” He finally sat up, slowly, and rubbed his jaw. “That doesn’t mean that I condone any of their past actions, but I really admire their culture and their society, and there are quite a few people on Cardassia that I really like.”  
   
“Speaking of which,” said Kira, “Garak asked me to tell him as soon as you were up. He’s back in the conference room now but he said I should contact him no matter what.”  
   
He felt another blush coming on. “They’re back at it quickly, aren’t they?”  
   
“Well, not that quickly, they took a few hours’ break till everyone had recovered from the shock.”  
   
Ah, so had he then, apparently. “Well, don’t contact him on my account, I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”  
   
“Oh, trust me, I’d rather tell him, he sounded very insistent.”  
   
Was he imagining it, or was Ezri looking a little perturbed?  
   
He woke yet again a while later – this time he had more of a sense of how much time had passed, and it didn’t feel like very long – to the feeling of a hand slowly stroking through his hair. He opened his eyes slowly.  
   
“The hero of the hour awakes,” said Garak, smiling at him, though there was a rather undefinable expression in his eyes.  
   
“I’m missing the fanfare,” Julian said, blinking through bleary eyes. “And what happened to being kissed awake?”  
   
Garak smiled a little more and gave him a brief kiss on the lips. “Better?”  
   
“Much.” He could see much better now, and he suddenly realized there were distinct marks of skin regeneration on Garak’s neckridges and right cheek. “You got hurt.”  
   
“Please. Nothing to your injuries. How are those, by the way?”  
   
“Better.”  
   
“The Prime Minister wants to organize a reception in your honour as soon as you’re up and about.”  
   
“Oh. Well if it’s up to Jabara I’ll be in here for the rest of my stay.”  
   
“Doctors. They’re such a nuisance.”  
   
Julian punched Garak’s arm lightly; then his eyes lit up. “Wait. Osharan wants to organize a reception for me? Does that mean I’m your new hero’s new hero? What does that makes us, I wonder?”  
   
“Still an extremely mismatched couple,” Garak shot back at once, and Julian laughed, although he couldn’t help wondering why Garak was so distanced. Perhaps he just wasn’t comfortable about being so demonstrative in a public space, even though they were alone. Or maybe this was about Ezri; but he didn’t feel like explaining himself now.  
   
“So ‘No More’ wants Cardassia to remain… crippled,” he said instead, and the expression in Garak’s eyes darkened considerably.  
   
“Yes. Not that I can blame them.”  
   
“Oh, come on. That’s exactly what Kira said, but that’s insane. You can’t condone everything by pointing out these people’s hardships during the Occupation.”  
   
“Well, no. But you can’t exactly _blame_ them, either.” Garak shook his head. “Julian, do you know what we did during the Occupation? Are you aware of all the crimes we committed? All in the name of superiority, all under the guise of wanting to help the Bajorans accede to a new stage of civilisation? It’s all become so clear to me lately, comparing it with the Occupation of Cardassia by the Dominion. We were no different to them, you know. We saw ourselves as the true leaders of the Alpha Quadrant. If we’d had the same resources as the Dominion…”  
   
“The Dominion _created_ their resources. They engineered the Vorta and the Jem’Hadar. Your people didn’t do that.” He couldn’t believe he was defending Cardassia in front of Garak. His partner, however, seemed to draw some comfort from this conversation.  
   
“For lack of imagination,” retorted Garak.  
   
“Rubbish. The Cardassians are anything if not imaginative and clever.”  
   
“Maybe.” Garak kissed him again, lightly on the temple this time. “I have to go back to the conference, my dear. But do tell me how you knew that they were about to attack us. Did you see their bomb?”  
   
“No,” he admitted. “I just had a bad feeling about them from the moment I saw them back on Bajor. Then I saw them moving towards you and my brain short-circuited.”  
   
“In a very accurate and productive way, thankfully,” said Garak. “All those spy holosuite programs must have paid off after all.”  
   
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, that, or associating with one of the most devious minds of the old Cardassian Empire.”  
   
“Sounds like a fascinating person. You’ll have to tell me about them some time.”  
   
***  
   
The reception a few days later was a rather stiff affair; Osharan made another of his speeches, this one slightly embarrassing as it praised Julian to the skies as Cardassia’s lifesaver in many different ways. Other than that, thankfully, the attention wasn’t all on him. Also, Kira and Ezri were there, as well as Quark in his capacity as caterer, so he was able to relax with them while everyone else was being official and diplomatic.  
   
“So, you two went to Bajor today,” said Quark, nodding at Ezri and Julian. “Nice time?”  
   
“Very nice,” said Ezri, “if you count out the fact that we ended the day almost getting killed.”  
   
“There was that minor detail about it, yes,” Julian concurred. It was good to be back on joking terms with Ezri; he’d always enjoyed her delightful brand of sarcasm.  
   
“Mind you, I almost got killed twice that day,” added Ezri. “First time were the jumping shrimps.”  
   
“Ah yes, tricky little fellows,” said Julian. “Ezri had to decide between them and the rash’da fish for lunch, because apparently she can’t eat anything _conventional_.”  
   
“The jumping shrimps were in the guide!” she said defensively. “I had to try something typical of the southern islands.”  
   
“Still, funny choice for someone who’s spacesick and pukes at the thought of gagh,” commented Kira, and they all laughed.  
   
“Who _doesn’t_ puke at the thought of gagh?” said Quark. “Just make sure you never work in a Klingon bar, Ezri, or you’ll have to serve the damn stuff. It’s so annoying when those worms try and wriggle off the plate.”  
   
They laughed again, and Julian saw Garak looking at them from across the room. He looked… rather worried.  
   
“Nice time on Bajor?” he asked later, as he joined Julian, Ezri and Kira by the window. Ezri nodded, while Julian worried at Garak’s overly casual tone.  
   
“We went to the southern islands,” Ezri said, and of course, she had to make it sound like they’d planned to go together. “They’re really as beautiful as advertised.”  
   
“Good. Nothing worse than false promises.”  
   
Oh, now you’re really annoying me, thought Julian and shot him a venomous look. Garak just replied with one of his innocent smiles.  
   
Nothing else for it than to shoot back. “Still, it would be downright _childish_ to trust in every promise ever made.”  
   
“What a good thing that we all grow up,” replied Garak in one of his most agreeable tones, made a little bow and walked off again.  
   
“What was _that_ all about?” asked Kira, while Ezri just looked after Garak, puzzled.  
   
“Oh, just some conversational sport,” said Julian, shrugging. “It’s very Cardassian.”  
   
“I’ll say it is. As obscure and vague as any of them.” Kira shook her head and went off to talk to Shakaar. Ezri, tearing her gaze away from Garak – who was, of course, looking entirely unruffled, and presently delivering an animated speech into Worf’s left ear –, looked at Julian.  
   
“You look happy,” she simply said. He looked into her eyes, and saw no regret there, and finally realized that he felt none himself.  
   
“I am. Very happy.”  
   
“Good. I felt really guilty when I heard you’d moved to Cardassia, I thought you were just running away.”  
   
“I was,” he admitted. “But it turned out to be the best decision I ever made. Well, maybe next to coming to Deep Space Nine eight years ago.”  
   
“I’m so glad to see you this content.” She smiled, a wise, old smile, and hugged him. Then, suddenly, she giggled, and following her gaze, he saw Garak. He was still standing beside Worf, but was no longer talking, just staring at them.  
   
“I think,” said Ezri, “you should go talk to your boyfriend before he has me assassinated.”  
   
***  
   
“So did the New Cardassian Republic make a good impression in front of the assembled forces of the Alpha Quadrant?”  
   
He was walking with Garak through the woods in the western part of the Dahkur province. They had just been to Ziyal’s grave, where they had laid down a wreath of wild white roses Garak had brought from Cardassia. The conference was over, and they were going back to Cardassia tomorrow.  
   
“I think so,” replied Garak. “Osharan may have talked a little too much on occasion, but other than that…”  
   
“Well, as long as _you_ held your tongue.”  
   
“Of course I did. You know me, my dear – I am the epitome of taciturn modesty.”  
   
They both had to laugh at that. After a moment’s silence, they turned into a small, secluded path. “Will you be making a lot of off-planet trips then?” Julian asked, putting his arm around him.  
   
“Not that many, I hope,” said Garak, in a much quieter voice than usual. There were jantook birds chirping melodiously all around them, and they tried to make as little sound as possible as they walked through this small paradise. “There’s the Bajoran-Cardassian reconciliation talks coming up, but Shakaar has already hinted at wanting to come to Cardassia for those.”  
   
“Quite something, those Bajorans.”  
   
“Yes, you have to admire them.”  
   
Garak suddenly stopped and faced Julian, taking his hands in his. “You must be honest with me, Julian. Would you rather stay here? Or return to Earth, maybe?”  
   
Julian frowned and looked down at their linked hands. “Why on earth do you think I’d want to stay?”  
   
“Well.” Garak dropped his hands and, turning away, started to play with a low-hanging branch. “You have many friends in this sector. I… well, I have nothing much to offer you.”  
   
“Except yourself, and your beautiful planet. Sure, that’s not much at all.” Julian took his partner’s hands again. “I like living on Cardassia, Elim. And I like living with you.”  
   
“It still can’t be official. I assure you the Cardassians won’t be as open-minded as Kira or Ezri have been, or as Miles O’Brien will be as soon as you send that letter on its way.”  
   
“Still working on the phrasing.”  
   
“Of course you are. Well, at least we have one Cardassian, next to Dr. Palok of course, who is enthusiastic about our association. I talked to Osharan yesterday.”  
   
“You –” He shook his head. Never mind; Osharan was Garak’s new role model, though the man was quite a bit younger than him. It was perhaps too much to ask that an authority-bound Cardassian consult his partner before revealing their relationship to his boss. “Well… good. I’m surprised he didn’t object.”  
   
“Of course he didn’t. He thinks you’re wonderful.”  
   
So now they had the new Cardassian leader’s blessing. How strange his life had become.  
   
“I’m glad. As for the rest… well, we’ll figure it out when we’re back home.”  
   
Garak blinked, then a slow smile spread across his face until he looked ready to burst with happiness.  
   
“You, calling my planet home, in Kardasi. I didn’t think I’d live to hear that.”  
 

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> Also available as a [podfic](http://amplificathon.livejournal.com/1326482.html), read by cyranothe2nd.


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